Once we found out we were pregnant, we starting doing a lot of worrying. Well, I started doing a lot of worrying. My husband starting saying a lot of this: Think good thoughts. Still, despite his resistance, I persisted. (I’m good like that.) I worried that my body was too old to make a healthy baby. I worried that my mind was too immature to be a good parent. I worried about every possible disease, deformity and disorder I’d ever heard about. I worried we might have a girl. I worried we might have a boy. I worried we couldn’t afford baby gear, or baby adolescence or baby college. I worried that all my worrying might be affecting my little unborn baby’s brain, giving…